I began to
think again about escape. Perhaps Friday wanted to go home too. Perhaps together
we could get into his country. But what then? Would Friday still be my friend or
would his people kill me and eat me?
I took Friday to the other side of the island and showed him my big canoe. It still lay under
the trees. It was very old now, and there were holes in the wood.
‘Could a boat like this sail to your country, Friday?’ I asked him.
‘Oh yes, he answered.’ ‘A boat like this can carry a lot of food and drink.’
‘Then we’ll make another canoe like it and you can go home in it,’ I said.
But Friday looked very unhappy. ‘ Why are you angry with me?’ he asked. ‘What have I done?
‘Why do you want to send me home?’
‘But I thought you wanted to go home,’ I said.
‘Yes, but you must come with me. Kill me if you want, but don’t send me away from you!’
Then I saw that Friday was a true friend, and so I agreed to go with him. We began work on
the canoe at once. Friday chose the tree himself – he understood wood better
than I did – and we cut it down. We worked hard and in a month the boat was
finished. Two weeks later it was in the sea, and we began to get ready for our
long journey.
